


Stay Awake

by JessenoSabaku



Category: One Piece
Genre: Blood, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-04
Updated: 2016-01-04
Packaged: 2018-05-11 15:51:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5632207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JessenoSabaku/pseuds/JessenoSabaku
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the strongest swordsman in the world shows up, Sanji can't leave well enough alone. When his efforts earn him a concussion, Franky is left to keep Sanji awake until they can get back to the ship. Filling a prompt for the One Piece 2015-2016 winter ficathon! Link to the event within the fic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stay Awake

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a prompt proposed by rueroux for the One Piece 2015-2016 winter ficathon. If you like writing OP fanfiction and want to fill a fic prompt or post a prompt to be filled, go to this link and find out all the event details: http://onepiece-ficathon.dreamwidth.org/1041.html

It was the first time Franky truly felt he was flying. Each foot just barely touched ground, and when the two met, jagged rocks tried in vain to stop him. A wave of sandy debris gusted at his back, forcing him to cover the bleeding head of the man cradled in his arms.

Sanji couldn’t leave well enough alone. Any other time, Franky would have called his persistence “bravery.” But sometimes the cook went beyond bravery and willingly into foolishness. They had been in just another port town, running from Marines on the rocky shore, heading for the Sunny to make another grand escape. Then out of the sea-foam mist a demon with a black sword and golden eyes appeared.

By the time Franky realized Sanji had stopped running, it was already too late. The black sword cleaved air, missing the cook on the first swing. The second swing nearly took off Sanji’s leg as he spun and connected a kick, to no avail. With an easy sweep of his sword, the man knocked Sanji off-balance. But the final swing was the most dishonorable, delivered with the back of the blade, crashing into the side of Sanji’s skull. That was when Franky’s brain switched off. His consciousness returned with the feeling of rocks against his pumping feet, blood running in rivulets down his brow, and a cracked view through his left lens.

He could hear the swordsman behind them, raising his blade out of the gravel. He waited for another swell of haki, but nothing happened, and slowly the threat got further and further away. Gritting his teeth, Franky realized in shame, that the strongest swordsman in the world had just granted them mercy.

He looked down to see golden hair matted thick with blood. Chopper said that all head wounds bled badly. Maybe if they were lucky, this wound was masquerading as fatal. The jagged-edged lion head of the Sunny was in clear view on the far end of the shore. The shouts of Marines echoed far behind, gradually drawing closer.

“Sanji,” Franky begged hoarsely. “Sanji, answer me.”

“Stop shouting,” the cook grunted in response. It wasn’t much comfort, but better than nothing.

“I need you to stay awake,” Franky panted in exertion, jumping out of the sand and onto the street as the dock came fully into sight. “Can you do that?”

“Don’t know,” the blonde mumbled, head lolling against his friend’s shoulder. “Really tired. Can’t feel anything.”

“I don’t care what you have to do, just stay awake!” Franky shouted desperately.

“How th’fuck am I supposed to do that?” Sanji slurred angrily, proving he at least had the presence of mind to be an obstinate asshole.

“Why don’t you start by telling me what the hell you were trying to prove back there? We can’t afford to get caught here! The others are waiting for us!”

And we can’t afford to lose you, Franky wanted to say, but managed to reign in that sentiment enough to preserve his anger. Otherwise, he’d break down into tears, and getting so overwhelmed would put them in an even more unstable position.

For a few moments, there was no sound except the wind rushing past and his own heaving breaths. He looked down to make sure Sanji was still awake and found one half-glazed eye drifting lazily over the stitched scars on Franky’s chest.

“Some people’s faces … you don’t forget.” The cook managed to focus enough to make eye contact. “Do you know who we just fought?”

The shipwright’s blood ran cold just from the thought. He answered shakily, “The Shichibukai, Dracule Mihawk.”

“Strongest swordsman in the world,” Sanji supplemented. “Did you know he cut Zoro in half?”

Franky bit his lip. The implication in the cook’s words was almost too straightforward.

“I should’ve let it go, but I couldn’t. I promised myself …” Sanji trailed off, staring into the bright blue sky. “If I saw him again, I wouldn’t turn my back. Even if it meant I’d die.”

“You’re not going to die,” Franky said quietly.

“I know,” Sanji answered absently, still looking away.

“You’re not going to die,” Franky asserted again, a little stronger this time.

That drew Sanji’s glassy eye back to the shipwright’s face. Confused, he said again, “I know that.”

But Franky was beyond listening. He continued saying the only things he could think to—the words he told himself on that fateful day as he picked up the makings of his new metal body, attempting to fix what the sea train had broken inside of him.

“You’re going to live, so don’t be so quick to give up your life again.”

The cries of Marines quickly closed in, guns firing off warning shots. Franky kept running, plodding along, just a few hundred feet away from the ship. On the banister of the Sunny, Usopp appeared and began returning fire with his slingshot.

Eventually, Sanji responded, “Don’t ask me to promise something you could never do yourself.”

“Maybe you’re right,” Franky admitted, steely gaze trained on the ship’s gangplank as it slowly lowered and Zoro and Luffy ran down to join the fray. “But you don’t know how it felt to watch you go down.”

“I know what it’s like to see a nakama fall,” Sanji argued.

“You’re not ‘a nakama’ to me,” Franky said quietly, watching the pirate hunter draw two swords and the future pirate king match his grace with ferocity. “You’re the cook whose food I would never have gotten to taste if I’d died that day.”

“You mean … at Enies Lobby?” Sanji asked groggily.

Mouth drawn in a thin line, Franky said nothing. Tom’s execution was his greatest shame—one he had reluctantly shared with only a few people on the crew. When Franky thought of the looming threat of death, he didn’t think of the inescapable Enies Lobby. He thought of the day he jumped in front of the sea train. If he’d died there, he would have been alone. He would never have learned to be thankful for each breath, or that he still had something left to accomplish in life.

The truth was, every time he ate Sanji’s cooking, he was reminded of how lucky he was that he wasn’t eating through a straw. He was lucky he could eat at all. And most fortunate of all was the fact that he could eat food made by the man who would surely become the greatest chef in the world.

While Zoro and Luffy held off the oncoming Marines, Franky thundered up the gangplank and quickly followed Chopper into the sickbay. They laid the chef on a bed and Chopper did some preliminary examinations.

“I’ll leave him to you,” Franky told the doctor. “Make sure everyone and everything in here is strapped down. I’m getting the ship out of this harbor.”

As Franky pushed open the door to leave, Sanji sat up in bed and called out.

“Hey,” he mumbled, almost incoherently, “You gonna be okay?”

The shipwright gave him an incredulous look. Without giving a response, he turned and ran back out onto the deck. Tears welled up in his eyes as he took up his position at the wheel and ordered the anchor to be raised.


End file.
